


Home, Sweet Home

by MarginalMadness



Category: Yuri!!! on Ice (Anime)
Genre: Dorks in Love, Fluff, Fluff and Smut, Hand Jobs, Kinktober 2017, M/M, Post-Series, Rutting, Sassy Katsuki Yuuri, Sleepy Cuddles, Sleepy Sex, Smut, Snark, Victor Nikiforov is Best Boyfriend
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-10-05
Updated: 2017-10-05
Packaged: 2019-01-09 08:09:57
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,399
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12272367
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MarginalMadness/pseuds/MarginalMadness
Summary: After a painfully long separation, Yuuri's finally made it to Saint Petersburg, and he can't wait to get his hands on Victor, now that his family is not around and they can be alone.





	Home, Sweet Home

**Author's Note:**

> So I planned to do Kinktober but it's day five and I've managed to do...one...I'm sure I'll get through the list eventually. This is the first Chapter of Yuuri's first month in Saint Petersburg...hopefully more smut, less plot and talking in future chapters...seriously, so much talking. Rating will increase later and I will add tags as I need too. Anyway, hope you enjoy.

The flight to Saint Petersburg was long, more accurately the _flights_ to Saint Petersburg, were long. Both of them. The five hour layover is Seoul was torture, and the slow pace at which everyone gathered their things and left the plane was hell on earth, because he knew Victor was waiting for him somewhere in the adjoining building. The past six weeks were the hardest of Yuuri’s life; he’d spent twenty three years without Victor and he had been just _fine_ , and maybe the past eleven years had been spent with a small bit of pining, a crush like any other, but Yuuri got on with his life, went to university, dedicated himself to a career in a sport he loved and only a _little_ bit inspired by said crush, but that was it. Hero worship more than anything. Then out of nowhere Victor Nikiforov, comes waltzing into his life, making himself at home like he’s always been there; okay maybe not out of nowhere but it seemed like it to Yuuri at the time, and suddenly Yuuri can hardly go a day without missing him, without feeling like some intrinsic part of himself is just… _gone._ Three days into the first week, Yuuri stood in the middle of his bedroom, arms listless at his side as he looked around, with no idea what to do now, because Victor wasn’t there, and Victor was activity, Victor was life, even sitting doing nothing was doing something with Victor beside him, and now Yuuri just felt lost.

He was off the plane and through immigration before he knew it, too tired to focus, his one thought, ‘ _Find, Victor_ ’. He stood blinking dry eyes as a parade of luggage passed him, before finding his suitcase, or rather Victor’s suitcase, or was both of theirs now? Victor took his because it was larger and he’s be there alone longer, and Yuuri could have his things shipped to Saint Petersburg with Victor’s. They had _shared luggage_ now, and that caused a little bubble of giddiness to rise up in him, and he grinned behind his surgical mask. He made his way through the airport, finally turning on his phone to text Victor and receiving a barrage of texts from what could only be from the moment Victor woke up, telling him how excited he was Yuuri was going to be ‘ _Home_ ’, by the end of the day, and apologising for being presumptuous and referring to it as home, but telling him he wanted to make it feel like home as much as Hasetsu now feels like it to him, and Yuuri can change anything he wants, and more and more texts about how much he loves him and missed him and how excited he is, all things Yuuri knows, they talked all the time but seeing them now, when he’s _finally_ here…Yuuri wants to respond he really does, but tears well up and and he can’t hold them back. He’d missed Victor so much, and he was so scared about moving to Saint Petersburg. A rink is a family, whether they admit it or not and joining a new one is always daunting, but Victor’s texts eased a bit of the anxiety inside of him; It may be rough but he’ll have Victor there by his side, so he can do it.

He wiped the tears from his eyes, as he finished reading the last of Victors texts and is about to respond to the most recent, a description of his outfit so Yuuri can find him easier in the crowded airport, as if it were possible for Yuuri’s eyes not to be drawn immediately to Victor if he was in the room, and a long rambling message about how time is passing too slowly and how Yuuri has to be in his arms already. He starts typing out a reply when a familiar voice calls his name, from his right.

_Victor._

Yuuri almost drops his phone as he shoved it back into a pocket, pulling his case behind him as he runs to his fiancé, removing his mask. Victor shoving his way through a crowd of people to meet him in the middle and Yuuri stops himself from leaping into Victors arms, but he doesn’t think Victor would have minded as he picks Yuuri up, arms wrapped around his waist, as he spun him around.

“I’m missed you so much,” he smiled down at the shorter man, foreheads pressed together. “We’re never allowed to be separated for that long ever again.”

Six week. Six weeks so Victor could focus on Russian Nationals and the European Championship, Yakov’s orders. He’d taken bronze at nationals, and the reviews were split between “ _ **This is the beginning of the end for Nikiforov**_ ” and “ _ **Stunning performance from someone who only had two weeks to train**_ ”.Yurio was smug at taking gold, but that only lasted until the European Championships where Victor took silver, with less than a point behind him for gold. Worlds were going to be interesting for sure, but right now, Yuuri only had two weeks until the Four Continents and he needed his coach, he needed his fiancé.

Yuuri’s arms wrapped around Victor’s shoulders. “Never. Never ever.” Yuuri promised with a shake of his head, looking up at sparking blue eyes. It seems Yuuri wasn’t the only one shedding tears of joy over their reunion. “I’m so happy to be here.”

“I’m so happy you’re here too, I made some space for you in my closet, and bathroom. I tried to make everything perfect. I even have a surprise for you, when we get home-” Victor stopped, blinking down at Yuuri, “um…what I mean is…”

Yuuri cut him off with a kiss, soft and sweet, before stepping back and taking Victor’s hand, smiling up at him “Take me home, Victor.”

Victor’s face broke out into a huge heart shaped smile, as he pressed his forehead to Yuuri’s again. “I love you.” He whispered, voice thick with unshed tears. Yuuri’s hand came up to cup the back of his head, fingers sliding carefully through the soft silver strands, just holding him there for several seconds.

“I love you too.” He whispered back. Victor gave him another quick kiss, and a smile that makes Yuuri believe for a moment, nothing bad exists in the world at all, and then took Yuuri’s case in his free hand and started leading him to where he’d parked the car. They walked in silence, sharing nothing but the occasional glance out of the side of their eyes, and a smile, words unable to express how much they’d missed each other and how much it meant to be reunited, but unable to show it by other means in public.

After a short walk Victor stopped them in front of a surprisingly, average looking car. _Definitely_ top of the range, and sporty, but it blended in well with all of the other cars around it; Yuuri stopped and stared at it with a tilt of his head.

“What?” Victor asked, as he lifted Yuuri’s, case into the trunk, then slammed it shut.

“It’s…a normal car?” It cames out as a question, like he was having some sort of a sleep deprived induced hallucination. Victor chuckled, walked over to him, wrapped his arms around him, pulled him close and leant back against said, disturbingly normal car.

“And what were you expecting, my Yuuri?”

“Something, I don’t know…flashier?” Yuuri blushed, and only half because of the endearment.

“Flashy? What about me is flashy?” Victor asked in mock outrage.

“You’re Victor Nikiforov.” Yuuri deadpanned and has to resist laughing at Victors answering pout. “You use Chanel Lip balm…you have a pair of sunglasses that cost seven thousand dollars.”

“Yuuuuuuri,” Victor whined, “you pay for _quality_!”

“I’m sure sunglasses that cost six thousand dollars work just as well.” Yuuri gave him an unamused look, but the tick at the corner of his mouth let Victor know he was only teasing.

Victor pressed his head against Yuuri’s shoulder with a sigh. “You’re going to be difficult when I try to spoil you, aren’t you?”

“Remember the arguments about flights for the grand prix events?” Yuuri giggled, burying his nose in Victor’s hair as he wrapped his arms around him. “Also, your car is silver, I was expecting-”

“They were out of gold paint, and I didn’t want to wait.” Victor mumbled, and Yuuri pulled back, Victor lifting his head to look at him.

“I can’t tell if you’re kidding or not.”

Victors mouth curved into a sly smile, before he leant forward and gave Yuuri a quick peck on the lips. “Lets get you, home.” Giddiness filled Yuuri, again and he let the subject drop, returning the kiss as Victor opened his door, and he slid into the passenger seat. Yes, he was going home.

The lights of the airport were mesmerising as they drove past them, snow covering the ground where traffic was light or none existent; it looked magical. He leant his head against the window and let the stress and exhaustion of 18 hours of travelling wash over him, it’s late in Saint Petersburg, almost ten, and Yuuri was so, so ready for bed. The last thing he remembered was Victor reaching out to squeeze his hand as he asked about grabbing something for dinner, and grunting in reply, and then everything slowly going dark. 

* * *

Yuuri woke up and it’s dark, dark and warm but he doesn’t entirely know where he is. He blinked tiredly and reached out for his glasses finding them just in front of him under his pillow? He slipped them on and rolled onto his back, looking around. He’s in Victor’s bed room. He’s in Victor’s _bed_. An abundance of emotions washed over him, from elation, to horror, to panic, and everything in between. He didn’t remember how he got to bed, last thing he remembered was leaving the airport. Yuuri looked over to his left and saw Victor face down in a pillow, soft city lights of Saint Petersburg, slanted across his bare back where it peaked through the gaps of the curtains. He looked around the room again, it was just like the magazine shoot Yuuri remembered reading a few years ago. Minimalist, spartan really, only essential furniture and a few trinkets and photographs, it’s easy to see why the Victor who came to Hasetsu would live in a place like this, he only really used it for sleeping, he was always training or travelling.

Turning his head to the right he saw his phone on the bedside table and his clothes folded on the chair in the corner, everything except the boxer briefs and t-shirt Victor had left him to sleep in. His throat tightened and his eyes teared up, breath coming in short little bursts as a swell of affection rose up in him. Victor must have carried him up after he fell asleep in the car and put him to bed, not exactly the reunion they planned, but Victor did it anyway, didn’t even wake him to complain. He stole a quick look at his phone, checking the time before putting it back down and leaving his glasses next to it, and rolled over and snuggled closer to Victor; carefully picking up one of his arms and slid under it, tucking himself into his chest, in his sleep, Victor rolled onto his side to accommodate him, his arm fell naturally around his waist, and he pulled the smaller man closer to him.

“Mmmmm, Yuuri.” He mumbled into Yuuri’s hair.

“Shhh, go back to sleep.” Yuuri whispered against his chest, arm sliding around his side to stroke soothingly down his back.

“What time is it?” He asked, pulling Yuuri, even closer and entangling their legs.

“Little after three.” Yuuri, tilted his head up and gave Victor a kiss on the underside of his jaw. “Go back to sleep.”

“But you’re awake, now.” He argued, sounding only slightly petulant.

“And I’ll be awake in the morning, too. There’s no rush, Victor, we have the rest of our lives.”

Both of them suddenly stilled. The only sound between them was a sharp gasp from Victor and the rapid hammering of Yuuri’s heart. They had the rest of their lives together. Obviously they both knew that, but it wasn’t something either one of them had said out loud or acknowledged, yet something both of them knew with every fibre of their being; they were going to spend the rest of their lives, with the man in their arms.

Victor moved his arm from around Yuuri’s waist, running a hand down Yuuri’s arm, removing it from around himself until he found the hand which held Yuuri’s engagement ring, and brought the warm metal to his lips and kissed it.

“We do.” He whispered, half shut eyes sparkling in the dim light.

He kissed his way across the rest of Yuuri’s knuckles, and then turned his hand over to lay kisses over his palm and down his wrist. Every point of contact was elation for Yuuri, Victor being so gentle with him, the ghosting of warm air over his skin, soft lips and the occasional caress of the tip of his tongue, Victor was touching him like he was something precious, something to be worshipped.

Victor tilted Yuuri’s head back with a finger under his chin and, Yuuri arched up to meet him in a lazy kiss. Hardly a parting of lips, before a brief swipe of tongue, and Yuuri responding in kind, melting into the mattress as, Victor’s hand sunk under the duvet, sliding down Yuuri’s thigh, grabbing his knee, lifting his leg higher until it sat comfortable on Victor’s hip. Yuuri’s fingers ran through the shorter strands of hair at the nape of Victors neck, short nails scratching, making the taller man shiver and moan into Yuuri’s mouth. Victor’s hand wasn’t idle, it slipped under Yuuri’s teeshirt, skimmed up his side, thumbed at a nipple, making Yuuri, gasp and buck his hips involuntarily. His dick hardening in interest, as it grazed Victor’s already semi-erect one.

“Tease.” Yuuri whined without any real heat.

“Let me make it up to you.” Victor smiled sleepily, leaning forward to kiss him again, as his thumb went back to teasing a nipple. Yuuri only managed a small, protest grumble of annoyance before Victor pushes his hand higher and lifted his t-shirt completely over his head, diving straight back in for more lazy kisses before Yuuri had even realised they’d stopped. His arms immediately wrapped around Victor’s shoulders, pulling them impossibly closer, while Victor’s wrapped around his waist. They rocked together languidly, cocks now fully hard and leaking against their bedclothes, but both Victor and Yuuri were too caught up in enjoying the moment to do anything about it right now. Foreheads pressed together, sharing the same air, sleepy, lazy kisses passed between them with no rush. They both had their eyes closed but Victor cracked one open to look at Yuuri when he yawned and tried to hide by burying his face in Victor’s shoulder.

“You should go back to sleep.” He said, fighting off his own yawn.

“I swear to God, Victor if you try to make me sleep before I cum, I’m kicking you out of bed and you can sleep on the floor.” The blatant tiredness reduced the bite of his threat but Victor barked out a laugh anyhow.

“Okay, okay, my Yuuri.”

Victor wiggled, with a helping hand from Yuuri, until his pajama bottoms were low enough on his thighs his erection could spring free, and then using one hand he pulled Yuuri’s cock through the gap in his briefs, which allowed both of them to rub along next to each other, sandwiched between their two bodies; Yuuri gasped and then sighed at the sensation.

“I missed you.” He whispered against Victors throat, who chuckled.

“He missed you too.” At this Yuuri, opened his eyes to frown at Victor who was smirking at him.

“Asshole.” He muttered, closing his eyes but tightening his leg muscle and rolled his hips into Victor, biting his lips at the whimper that tried to escape. Victor’s hand found his hip, and the rocking increased in earnest, still not hurried but a harder more forceful grind that had every inch of their shafts sliding against each other.

“You know there was a time, I was worried you might only be interested in me because I was your idol.” He whispers into Yuuri’s hair, lips grazing his forehead. “It’s comforting to know, you only wanted me for my dick all along.”

“Considering how you introduced yourself in Hasetsu, it was inevitable…it’s a very attractive dick.” Yuuri mumbled, as he clutched at Victor’s shoulders and rolled his hips just that _little bit_ harder.

“Thank you.”

Yuuri could feel the smile pressed against his hairline. “Asshole.” He swore, giving Victor a kiss on the collarbone.

“Your asshole.” Victor said, squeezing his waist, and hip.

“All mine.” Yuuri agreed, leaning up to kiss him, a shudder running through him as the increase in speed and pressure began to get to him. “Victor-”

“I know.” Victor agreed, kissing him, pressing their faces together.

“Victor…” Yuuri gasped, rocking his hips harder now, warmth starting to pool at the base of his spine and spread out over his limbs “I need-”

“I know.” Victor rolled onto his back, pulling Yuuri with him. Yuuri continued to grind down on him, whimpering into space between them, even as they were close enough to kiss with even the smallest tilt of their heads. The hand holding Yuuri’s hip snaked around his waist holding him tight, the other let go, searched between them, taking both of them in hand and jerking them together as Yuuri fucked up into his hand. “It’s been so long, _solnishko_ , it wont take long.” As if to prove his point, Victor’s hips thrust up off of the bed, to meet Yuuri’s, as he moaned out his lovers name, “I’ve missed you too.” Yuuri’s head fell to Victor’s shoulder, his muffled cries sounding somewhere between desperate and pained, and Victor brings his hand up to tangle in the soft, dark locks. “Cum for me, Yuuri.” He murmured softly, accent thick with sleep and arousal. Yuuri cried out loudly in the dark room, fingers tightening on Victor’s shoulders until he’s sure he’d have bruises in the morning, but then there’s a light press of teeth to his shoulder, and Yuuri is shuddering as warmth spilled over Victor’s hand. With the love of his life on his chest, shuddering through the aftershocks of a sleepy hand job, it only takes Victor a few more tugs and he’d followed Yuuri over the edge.

When they’d both stopped shaking, and their breathing returned to normal, Yuuri doesn’t so much as move off Victor, as slid off him bonelessly. Victor leant over the bed to find the nearest thing to clean themselves up with, which happens to be Yuuri’s hastily removed teeshirt, and turned back to find Yuuri curled up on himself, flushed, closed eyes and grinning stupidly.

“Yuuri, we have to get you cleaned up.” Victor admonished lightly, wiping his hand, on the shirt and then as much as he could off his stomach.

“Sleeeeeeepy.” Yuuri practically sang, curling himself into a tighter ball. Victor rolled his eyes at him with a fond smile and then rolled him onto his back so he could wipe down his stomach and slip off his briefs.

“You wake me up at three a.m. for sex and now that I’m trying to be a good boyfriend, you haven’t got time for me?” Victor threw the soiled items in the direction of the laundry basket, his pajama bottoms following and turned Yuuri around so they could spoon, organising the duvet to over them both.

Victor settled down to sleep, but Yuuri turned in his arms, a hand coming up cup his jaw, a thumb running under his eye which prompted it to open.

“Being a good fiancé.” Yuuri corrected, with a kiss, before turning back around, and snuggling back against Victor, tucking the duvet up under his chin. Victor smiled and buried his nose in Yuuri’s hair, letting sleep take him, the last though to cross his mind before he drifted off being, ‘ _He’s home_.’


End file.
